Adrenaline's pumping through my veins. The Germans have been distracted pretty well. Our disguises are working. We're walking through the streets. Can't get through the checkpoints. They aren't looking for us... but we can't stay in these clothes though. Need to change into some civvies.
“Sir.” it's Klaus. He's bleeding. Not sure how bad it is. Need something hard. Whisky.
“I told them nothing. I think he was more interested in making me feel it than anything else.”
“I couldn't ask anything more from you than that. There'll be a medal for you when we make it out.” I tell him. Not much, but it's something.
“One more thing. That ship is going to be on high alert. We're running out of time.”
“Right. We still have a job to do. Gents, plan's still on. Petersen's probably told them everything, but that doesn't mean we can't throw a few monkey wrenches into the mix.”
We were still speaking when we turned a corner. Immediately we doubled back. A tiger tank was less than thirty meters from us.
I peak around the corner.
It isn't running.
The Tiger's turret doesn't turn fast. The 88mm shells are heavy. The sights are extremely accurate. Jennings is driving. Klaus is taking it easy on the hull's machine gun. Pyre is in the gunning seat. Navittas is loading. I'm commanding.
Jennings doesn't know the tank. He's having a hard time. We plow right through a mud-brick house. I'm sure they're pleased.
“Orders sir?!” Jennings asks.
“Get us to the harbour!”
I open the cupola. There's smoke coming from the harbour. Lots of gunfire too. Our troops are going straight for the Zeppelin and they don't even know it -- this is perfect!
“Sir, we might have a problem up ahead.”
Checkpoint. A number of machine guns. A small guard house beneath an overpass.
“Gents! Prepare to argue with them!”
Navittas loads an HE shell.
“Loaded!”
I look through the view ports. I give the order. The tank stops.
“ARGUE!”
The HE shell blows the guardhouse to pieces. Klaus unloads the machinegun on the overpass.
It's over in thirty seconds flat. After all is said and done, all we hear are their screams. We lay another shell into the overpass as we keep on going. We hear the bang. But then we hear a crash. The entire overpass smashed to the ground. I think Navittas shed a tear. We don't have time for that now though.
The Harbour is a mess. We're behind the Jerries. They're across from our boys. Our boys are losing. There are a few other tanks. A panzer IV, a Stug III, and a few half tracks. I figure our boys could use a little help right about now.
Pyre plants a shell in the Panzer IV. Klaus starts gunning the Jerries down by the score. The StuG III turns to face us. I order Jennings to angle the tank to the shot, and the crew to brace. They hit us. I hear the shell hit. A great metallic clang. Pyre loaded another shot. The Stug fired again. Still not through the armour. Can't let them hit us again. “FIRE!”
Looks like we hit the ammunition storage. It cooked right up. Klaus has run out of ammo on his current belt though. We'll have to do the rest by the coaxial gun – no way he can reload, not with those wounds. We keep on gunning the ones we can down. Only problem is, they're close. Too close. They're on top of the tank when something happens. A shower of body parts and bullets hits the tank. I see what happens. I look out the scope. Something clicks inside me. Not sure what. It isn't good though. It's nothing I can worry about now. Gotta do this.
A man starts pounding on the cupola. I open it up, with my luger out.
“Judging by the fact that you shot your own men, you're either on our side, or a traitor. So, which is it?” this boy says.
“Your side. Sergeant Arnold Maddock. XIII corps. Commando. The Graf Zeppelin is what we're after.”
“Right. Sergeant Stephen MacDonald. You saved our sorry asses. What can we do?”
“Anything you can do to keep the Zeppelin here.”
“Roger. We'll see what we can scrounge.”
We keep on going toward the harbour. It's a bit of a fool's errand at this point. But we need that ship destroyed. And fast. I start hearing German radio signals. Sounds like they're about to launch some Stukas.
We keep an eye out for anything of use. The tanks we destroyed were out of commission. Plenty of machine guns though. Those men we liberated could surely hold out for a while... provided we could get them a few anti-tank guns. Those would solve our problems, too.
I get over to Klaus. He's lost a lot of blood. He's out cold.
“Jennings, stop the tank. Gotta get Klaus out of here.”
“Sir, that seems highly dangerous.”
“Risky but necessary. He must know something about the zeppelin we can use.”
“...roger.” Jennings said, quietly.
We pull Klaus from the tank. I call over a medic to tend to him, but he doesn't have much to work with. Pyre cauterizes a few of his wounds, everything the medic couldn't do. Nothing more we can do for him. Man's a credit to the army.
Those people that were shot off the tank... they weren't much different from us. Language, perhaps. Culture, maybe. But we would have done the exact same thing in their situation. All ended up shot. All of them.
We started combing the area. The Tank's got about a half-full tank. Gas, not diesel. Those shots that hit us made some pretty intimidating dents. If one of those had penetrated... well, I don't think we'd have gotten out without a little cooking.
Mud brick house after mud brick house. Very bland city. Still, the ocean air is nice. It might be a bit obscured by the engine smell in the tank, but outside, it reminds me of home. Except for how the sand is. It's... different here. A different grain.
Jennings Keeps the tank running forward. The mud brick houses abruptly end. I order him to hang a left around, to get a better look at this sheet-metal building. This one's big. A warehouse. And we know why it's big. It's an armoury. There are around twenty men in there; Pyre starts picking them off with the machinegun. The rest of them run. And then we spot just what we need.
